Phoenix Fire
by HellsBells999
Summary: In the fall of the Dark Lords defeat, a single choice changes everything. But what could a Damphir Monster Hunter, a Squib Hacker, a Veela Mafiosa and her Troll Bodyguard accomplish that the Order and the Ministry could not?
1. Chapter 1: Man of God

**I do not own Harry Potter or any other of the various Urban Fantasy works alluded in this fic. More's the pity.**

* * *

It had been a long night and Father Anghelscu was exhausted.

London had always been a hotly contended point between the powers-that-be in the Moonlit World, the cold war of Wizards and Monsters as always, a sword stroke away from open conflict. The superiority complex of the Wizard in their power to shape reality made them proud and the sheer number of what men called Monsters made placating them an exercise in diplomacy. Between it all, on the line between one or the other laid the third power.

The Church. Having existed for time immemorial, its resources were vast and its agents varied from the Assembly of the Eighth Sacrament of which he himself was a member, to the more militant enforcers, laid up for Doomsday and the Hell that would follow. As he locked the door behind him to his small living quarters, he stepped lightly to his kitchen sink and turning it on, began to wash his hands and splash his face.

The long war had ended.

The civil war between wizarding factions had finally been decided but the real work was just beginning. It was a time to rebuild, to shore up old breaks and fix that which allowed this situation to happen in the first place. Someone such as Lord Voldemort should not have gained the followers he had, nor the power he obtained. The true irony in all this he supposed, was the fact that Voldemort did more to unite the Moonlit community than most others before. And in doing so, illustrated a danger the Church would not allow to occur again. His cell phone rang and drying his hands, he picked it up.

The voice that spoke was sultry, the purr of a woman who knew what she wanted as she spoke.

"This is Velvet Angel, here to reward you for your services-."

He interrupted. A single word, exasperated but with an underlying tone of fondness.

"Mara."

Mara laughed, replying back in a more brisk, normal tone.

"So serious. Just calling to make sure you came back alive. Trocar came through for us then?"

"And more. His position between worlds gives him a certain amount of credibility among his kind and I'm confident there won't be any moves in that direction. That said?" He flopped onto the only comfortable chair in his place, one hand reaching for an inner pocket to unpeel a blood pop as he considered before speaking his mind.

"I guarantee a few years later if nothing is learned, we'll be back in the same situation."

He could almost hear the shrug Mara made in return.

"Not our problem. And anything that keeps both sides weakened is more than enough for us, right? Means they focus more on licking their wounds and less on each others throats. No offense meant."

"None taken." He grunted, spinning the wizard candy between his fingers idly. Callous as Mara was, it was true. The situation lasted only insofar as all factions concerned promised to behave. Like a line in the sand, with two massive folks taunting and daring the other to cross. Then push comes to shove, and suddenly it's violence and they're required to come and break it up. The neutral third party, despised by both but too powerful to ignore.

"So what happened, exactly? Details are still confused and no one's been particularly forthcoming."

Mara laughed uproariously on her end, prompting him to hold the phone slightly away before she spoke.

"Take your pick. I particularly love the version where an infant pile drives the dark lord out the window."

"You made that up just now." He said flatly.

A scoff was her reply to his insight before she replied more somberly.

"No one really knows. Big, bad dark lord waltzes into a home that should have been protected, kills James and Lily Potter with the Killing Curse and then tries to do the same to the kid. Whatever happened after, it tore open a huge hole in the nursery and the world is now minus one Dark Lord. His followers are rounded up, his allies distancing themselves and us picking up the pieces."

He was quiet for a moment, sucking on the blood pop with a thoughtful expression as Mara spoke cautiously.

"I can practically see your face now. Its wizard business now bossman. Leave it be. Nothing good comes from meddling in the affairs of wizards."

"Our whole job description is one, big 'meddling with the affairs of wizards." He stretched out and frowned as he counted the cracks on his ceiling before he spoke.

"Call it a gut feeling. Right now, I'm going to need your help. If this boy is in any way special, what kind of protection would the wizards give him?"

"Safehouse in Prague, protected twenty four-seven by Golems, Aurors and the kitchen sink with the best wards the Ministry could whip up. Private tutors to ensure he grows up with the right mindset, carefully screened via veritiserum and legimens." She drawled in a manner that screamed bored.

Father Anghelscu suckled on the blood pop, his eyes narrowed before he popped the candy out and spoke.

"And if Dumbledore got to him first?"

Silence replied before Mara replied coyly.

"Well, well...A challenge it is. Call you back bossman."

She hung up.

He sighed, resigned himself to a sleepless night and rose up to get dressed for an outing, pausing only long enough to send a text before walking out his door.

A banging noise like a gun and a screech of tires later, he was gone.

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron. Not really a place he enjoyed personally but it was accorded neutral territory. Used by everyone, served the same by Tom it was an unofficial sanctuary for those denizens who called the shadowy nations beneath the Mundane surface home. Tonight, it would serve that self-same purpose as he stumbled slightly from the purple, double-decker that vanished with a crack of displaced air.

Father Anghelscu was a tall man, Roma in blood. His outfit when going out on a job that of a Catholic priest, the white collar prominent and the rosary beads wrapped around his left hand, a silver cross dangling. Over all this he wore an Inverness coat which obscured his figure and a wide-brimmed black hat, the overall look reminiscent of a cinematic gunslinger, which actually wasn't far from the truth. Beneath the brim, his eyes glowed a faint red as he dropped the glamour. There was no need to hide here, and he would need all the advantage he could take. He walked to the door with heavy tread and the subtle clink of metal, and pushed open the door.

Even expecting it, he was almost made deaf from the noise. The Leaky Cauldron was in full celebration, the sheer aura of mingled relief and joy at being alive, at surviving hitting him with the force of a sledgehammer. He elbowed his way through the crowd, ignoring the press of folks, the smell of liquor and the ever-constant bang of wands as wizards and witches cast spells like Mundanes with fireworks. The Ministry would have their hands full at making any sense out of this chaos and in that brief time between pandemonium and order, he would doubt even Dumbledore to notice him and this little meeting. Or so he hoped.

He moved his way upstairs, glancing briefly at Tom serving swiftly with the aid of a house elf before he was out of sight. It was quieter now, the common room noise dulled to a low thump. The silence spells strained no doubt, but enough to be a welcome respite. If he allowed himself to notice, he could sense celebrations of a different sort up here. Passion and heat, the sort that made one glad to be alive. A new generation may very well be birthed here and the thought made him smile as he glided down the corridor, seeking out room fifteen.

As he knocked and the door opened, his smile vanished swiftly, replaced by a cooler expression as he stared into the barrel of a gun. Slowly, he looked up at its owner.

It was rare that he had to look up to anyone, yet this troll was massive enough to demand it. More interesting, unlike the usual stereotypical image of trolls, this one was clad in an immaculate tailored suit. Silver cufflinks gleamed and when the troll smiled, a gold tooth shone from its jaws before he lowered the enlarged smith and wesson revolver. Giving a little courteous nod, the troll didn't move so much as loom to the side as he growled.

"Sorry Father. Da orders from Sin was to scare away everyone."

"And if you couldn't?"

"Den I shoot em."

"You do remember that most wizards won't even know what a gun is, right?"

Back returned the golden grin, one craggy hand moving up to thump its palm gently against the head in a fashion best described as 'oh lawdy me oh my'. It fooled neither of them. It was a reminder for Father Anghelscu just what he was dealing with in coming here.

"Bless me Father, you so sharp like a cutty thing! I forget dat, soon forget me own head I reckon." He made a gesture to come in further.

When the door closed behind Father Anghelscu, it took all his mental fortitude not to interpret the closing of the door as a trap. Besides, it didn't fit her style and walked into the main room, he stared at the following.

She was an ethereal beauty, gorgeous to behold. Clad in a silk bathrobe, she sat in one of the armchairs in a way to best display herself to tasteful satisfaction. Her hair was flowing, silvery and shimmering. Her face, heart shaped and lovely with green eyes twinkling merrily. Raising a hand, she crooked a single finger with more seduction in it than a cabaret of dancing girls.

All it did to him was make him scowl.

"Stop that." He said irritably. She gave a small shrug and the mental pressure vanished, the Veela stretching prettily as she spoke with a pout, her French accent barely discernible with her English.

"You can't blame a woman for trying. Really Lucy, the least you can do is indulge me my little games. Especially after dragging me from my party."

He twitched briefly on that nickname, moving around to sit opposite her as he belatedly remembered her own methods.

"And how was the party when you left?"

"Horribly gauche." She admitted with a smile, leaning forward as she rested her chin on her palm. He felt a smile returning himself and barely squashed it. To his chagrin, she noted though she made no comment on it, save to smile wider. Sin had always been that way though and shaking his head, he spoke.

"My condolences. I thought Corsican parties were usually more exciting." She beamed and wagged a finger in admonishment.

"Now, now Lucy. That sort of slander I won't tolerate. No such thing as the Corsican, we're just old money families interested in our British allies across the channel." He gave a snort and removed his hat, placing it on his arm rest as he scowled and ran a hand through his hair in consternation.

"I needed someone I could trust for this. God knows why, but I trust you Sin."

Now she was really interested, her smile fading in favor of curiosity as she cocked her head to the side, but allowed him to continue. He took a deep breath and looked her in the eye, red meeting green.

"It's about the boy. The Potter boy." Sin grimaced, leaning back in her chair as she waved a hand in dismissal. "Lucy, dear Lucy...I can see where you are going with this and my answer is no. You're not that cute."

"This squabble almost erupted into a full global conflict, had Voldemort accomplished his aims. Armed with the British factions, it would have been enough to establish him as a world power before moving for the rest of the world. France? Germany? You and I know what happens when a wizard turns megalomaniac." He continued on stubbornly, willing her to hear his words as he spoke.

"He's gone, but his followers are many and already are vanishing in their own way. His old allies will wait and the Wizards will foul things, lost in their own history and blinded by their magic."

"None of which is _my_ concern." She emphasized with a toss of her head, looking away. As the topic turned more serious, so did she, revealing the head of the Wizarding Corsican that she was.

"We're currently tied up cleaning house and any reveal of our hand, one way or another will simply let our enemies know that we support them. You think you are not the only one, who are asking us? Even now, gold is exchanging hands between our favored clients and our own 'departments' seeking to erase their past. They have money- You on the other hand, are trying to appeal to my sense of right and wrong. What does Britain matter to me? To Stone?" She gestured to the troll bodyguard, who was silent and had a thoughtful grimace on his face. She sighed, shook her head and leaned back in her seat.

"...What do you want us to do, exactly?"

"I need resources that won't have a paper trail show up on either Ministry nor Vatican records." Father Anghelscu replied promptly. Revealing a bit more, he added; "I have my own sources sifting, trying to find where the boy will be. Skilled a wizard as Dumbledore is, its his track record I'm not especially impressed by and his mindset more. You've seen it in wizards. Their...Magic. It defines them. They eat, breath and anything contrary to it can only be wrong. He's not bad as a whole." He admitted as he shook his head again.

"But I stood aside on orders and watched a lot of good men and women die when I could have done something. I plan to be more preemptive this time around. When- Not if Voldemort returns, we won't have to rely on merely Wizards facing him. Nor will the boy be wholly unprepared."

Sin stared at him, her brow furrowed before she spoke.

"Stone? What do you think?"

The troll rumbled, clearing his throat before speaking what it had been thinking all this time.

"Wizards are _groolhag_ \- They think we stupid and train us like animals. And dey right, lot o' da time. But dey be a walk in da park, compared to you-know-who. Lot o' my cousins and kin dead 'cause of him. 'Cause he use us an' we let him. Anything dat lets us bash him before he bash us, good in mah paper-thingy. Whats it called? Dem thing wit all da thin paper…."

"It's a book, Stone darling." Sin said with a smile. Stone brightened and thumped a closed fist in his palm.

"Yeah! Dats da bunny."

Sin sighed and turned to look at Father Anghelscu with a frown.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" She asked rhetorically as she looked him in the eye.

"Most likely."

She huffed out and finally rose to her feet, waving a hand in dismissal. Father Angelscu rose, about to grab his hat before Sin's hand snatched it before him. Waving it at him mockingly, she walked up close and set it on him herself, adjusting it with a rakish air as she grinned into his face.

"Text me the details. I'll do what I can and _you_ , o' monster mine owe _me_ a favor...Again."

He sighed with vexation, but when he smiled at her, this time he didn't bother to hide it.

* * *

"So. How was it, visiting the ex?"

Walking down the streets of London, he scowled and spoke in reflex. "Sin's just the same as she ever was. That should be enough of an answer. She is helping us though, but I need the information. What do you got for me Mara?"

"Eh, not much. I scoured pretty much my entire database, for magic that might match up to what Dumbledore might use but it's a fair bet that he'll rely on love." He frowned in confusion and asked cautiously.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You know, bossman. Love. Parents sacrifice themselves for their kid- James and Lily were fighters, cornered and their son's life was on the line. Even if they didn't stand a chance, something like that has power of its own unless you buy into the theory that the Potter boy had something extra. Thankfully for _you_ because I'm so awesome, I also looked into his family tree. Good thing wizards set such store by genealogy. Now a lot of wizarding families would jump at the chance to raise him- I mean, imagine the street cred that would come with that. Unfortunately, it means also that some of the darker families might leap at that chance too. So he'd wanna avoid that."

He listened on, finding a bench to rest on as he let her talk. She was always good at finding patterns and her insight had aided him more than once, on his various cases.

"So we look at the Mundane side and what do I find, but a family in Little Whinging. Petunia Dursley, sister of Lily. House wife, husband has some kind of Drill company or whatever. Seems like the kind of place nobody would expect Wizard Jesus to be hanging."

"That does sound like Dumbledore." He admitted aloud. Sneaky, magically sensible and as always, underhanded for the greater good. He never did like that term, it always implied the tolerance of lesser evils in its wake and was a rallying cry for more than one dictator in history.

"You did great Mara. Could you give me the address?"

She did.

And a few days later, in Little Whinging a new priest came to the parish.

* * *

 **Authors Note**

 **Well, first fanfiction. Based loosely on an Urban Fantasy mashup RPG setting, but reduced for the sake of the story. The majority will be focused on the HP side of things, but if you read certain familiar terms, methods and characters? That's intentional and may have some effect on the story.**

 **Read and review. If there's any interest in this, I'll keep writing.**


	2. Chapter 2: World of Darkness

So I'm inflicting another one on you readers. As always, I don't own anything but the OC's.

* * *

Imagine a world of stories.

A world filled with tales of witches, goblins and ghouls. Of tomes of lore and guardians of treasure, great and terrible and wondrous and sad. Think of the monster under the bed, on the crossroad and in the woods where none but the bravest dare tread. Consider every fairy tale, every horror story you may have heard, every urban fantasy describing that shadow out of sight, or that monster across the midnight road.

You now have an approximation of the Moonlit World as the Mundane(or Muggle or No-Maj as some called them) see it. From within, it was another thing entirely. Entire shadow-nations, consisting of various factions across the globe lived and hid in the shadow of the Mundane. They varied in methodology, in origin and while they could not stand each other at the best of times, they all agreed that secrecy was for the best. No one wanted another inquisition and the more savvy wizards recognized the Muggles penchant for destruction if it came down to war.

And so united by mutual hatred and fear, though they would never admit it, they remained separate and eventually could not consider any other way of life.

Not that they wouldn't take their occasional shot if they could get away with it. Such as Harry Potter. Voldemort or his followers could not touch him for all their magical aptitude. The wards were simply that powerful.

However, it was highly limited in terms of mundane interference such as the ones who drove up in a black van around dinner time and kicked down the door.

He would be five years old by now...

* * *

He had been at his church when it happened.

Little Whinging consisted of very few true believers, the majority either too busy with their career or those for whom church was merely a rote ritual, something to be done to assure the neighbors of their god-fearing ways. Father Anghelscu didn't mind, he took comfort himself in the research for his sermons and it was a quiet way to pass the time. Sin had been as good as her word, the chapel property in his name and accompanied by a note with her lipstick on it.

He kept it in his desk drawer, for reasons he couldn't quite understand himself. Mara on the other hand, found the whole thing immense fun. As soon as he moved in, she turned up three days later and since then, converted the attic into her lair.

Speaking of which, he glanced up from his desk as she walked into his office, glancing her over.

A young woman of Irish descent, Mara was a Squib- A child born to a wizarding family, but unable to use magic. A pariah in a society that put magical prowess on a pedestal and excluded those who could not. She made up for her lack of magic with guile and knowledge, self-teaching herself to become the best hacker he knew. She had been twelve years old at the time, using a combination of her technical skills and knowledge to lure a ghoul he had been hunting into a junkyard, where she subsequently dropped a car on it.

It had impressed him and it had been a solid friendship ever since, allowing them to crack cases together where he would have fallen short otherwise.

A skinny teen with red hair(dyed today, last month had been a solid blue), she resembled a manic pixie and for all her time behind a computer screen, she practically danced with grace, light on her feet. Her freckles gave her an innocent air and her gray eyes glinted with mischief as she did a little spin, showing off her current outfit.

"So what do you think?"

He drummed his fingers on his desk, before speaking.

"Its well made, but...Really?"

Mara giggled, her nun outfit missing only the wimple as she gestured to herself. In a tone that implied two plus two equals four, she listed off her reasoning.

"Well one, I could hardly dress as anything else, now could I here? Two, I had plenty of material and its simple enough to sew. No complicated frills here for me to muck about. Two, we match now!" She beamed and let out a laugh as she posed, making a finger gun as she adopted a rolling, Irish brogue. Her brow furrowed into a glare as she squinted and spoke.

"It is your corrupt we claim. It is your evil that will be sought by us! With every breath, we shall hunt them down! Say, you think I could get my own gun at some point now?"

"Wait until you're older." He returned to his writing and ignored Mara sticking out her tongue in reply. Idly, he added.

"I do love your new outfit though. You've a good eye and a deft hand for it. Both are needed for marksmanship, though I hope you never have to use it."

"Can't keep me cooped up forever bossman." She replied as she took out her phone. A choking noise from her prompted Father Anghelscu to look up, just in time to see her face pale with shock as she turned it over to reveal a camera feed connected with an app she wrote up. The image was small, but familiar. The address of the Potter boy. And a smashed door that came with it. Sermon forgotten, he reached beneath his desk and took out the bayonets. In his desk drawer, he tapped a carved rune and slid it open, revealing a six-shooter and subsequent equipment. Mara was already moving upstairs. As he grabbed his hat and coat, he turned and went back as Mara yelled over her shoulder.

"EARPIECE!"

That done, he got into his car and drove off. He drove calmly- At this point, it would be long since over and unlike wizards, he had no apparition abilities nor did Mara. But what they did have was brains and skill- They would find Harry Potter and deal with his captors.

He dared not dwell on the alternative as he spoke aloud, letting the microphone catch his voice.

"Alright Mara, what do you have for me?"

In her lair, Mara would be in a world of her own. Behind a keyboard, she was greater than any witch and wizard and this was her element. She had been rewinding the recording, seeking out the point when it happened and working on a number of other things. Dispatch was already sent out, but she could delay it easily enough. Traffic lights, slow times...The works. Not perfect, but it would do.

The video camera itself was an engineering marvel. Small, leeching power from the line and compact- Muggles wouldn't see it and Wizards would have no idea what it was. It had cost them a pretty fortune from their sources(I.E., Sin). Leaning back in her chair, she spun around in a lazy circle and frowned.

"Mundane. At least four people, in ski masks and sidearms. They came in a black van with a license plate registered in a Kansas Junkyard and ran out with the boy. Easy enough. Nice loophole too."

"No wizards on the scene yet?"

"De nada bossman. Non-magical, so nothing registering on their sensors. You'd have to have someone watching twenty-four seven and- Well, well, well." Mara leaned forward, peering at the screen.

"What is it?" Father Anghelscu's voice was level and Mara chuckled. On screen, an old lady had seen the door, gave a visible start and dashed off. Mara froze the image and ran her face through her database.

"Arabella Figg. One of the street residents, seems to be reacting a mite strongly. Might be nothing, but be careful. I'll track down the van and keep you posted."

And with cracking knuckles, Mara proceeded to do just that.

Father Anghelscu parked his car two blocks away. Getting out, he moved on foot as he made his way down the street. Jogging quietly, he reviewed what he knew so far from Mara and from his own evaluation of the Boy Who Lived as the wizards knew him.

The hit was professional, and a statement to boot. Whoever it had been was connected to their world, there was no doubt of that. Using mundanes however was a twist and that bore some thought in turn. Would a wizard do it? If so, there was no shortage of suspects, many of the pro-Voldemort families still at large. How many had Mundane connections on the other hand, that was another story. Still, it wasn't the only thing.

They took him alive. Why did they take the boy alive?

Mara spoke suddenly.

"Bossman, I ran down a few possible locations the van might have gone. Lost it around the Richmond area, but if it surfaces I might be able to do more. Any luck?"

"I'm not at the house yet, trying to go stealthy. Last thing I need is a memory charm messing up everything."

"If it helps, there's no one there. Dursley's headed out for the evening a while back, family outing or something. Strange, they left him behind though. Bossman." Her voice became more serious as she spoke.

"Wizards on-site. Watch your six."

"Thank you. Going silent now."

He took a deep breath and then stepping into the darkness, for all intents and purposes...He vanished. Not true invisibility, just a little cameoflage his bloodline enabled him to do, provided he avoided lights.

Not a problem for him as he glided down the street. Eventually, he came to the house and peered at number four, privet drive in person.

The first time he had seen it, he had been disguised as a workman to install the hidden camera. It hadn't really caught his eye and really, hiding the boy among this sort of banality wasn't that bad of a plan. Who would believe him to be here, of all places? Apparently, someone had and he listened carefully before applying his other senses. No outcry- The neighbors houses were dark and didn't have any sort of concern for the kicked in door, despite their calls earlier. He had only a limited time until the police came by and there were two, unknown wizards within.

He had to make this fast and he strode out of the shadows, looking for all the world like he just teleported himself. A surprised mrow caused him to look to the side briefly, as for a moment he locked eyes with a cat who seemed flabbergasted before it turned and ran down the street. Thoughtfully as he walked, he spoke.

"Mara? Possible familiar heading out. Anything happens, remember the plan."

She didn't answer. She knew what it meant and he slipped into the building. He could hear them speaking, the frustration in their tone as he quietly moved.

"-No magical traces whatsoever. Merlin's beard, the Prophet is going to have a field day with this. Eyes up Tonks."

The voices seemed to be coming from the living room and he slowly moved in turn. Each step careful, every movement wary of a brush of cloth or the creak of a floor that might betray his presence. His eyes burned red, intense as he swallowed and prepared himself. Ahead of him, he could see the entryway into the living room, the dining area, the stairs leading up- What was that? He peered more closely as the voices went on.

"Right. No other living beings in the house though, witnesses just reported a van...Muggle kidnapping?"

"We'll have to head back to the department. Get it all sorted out, get the trackers out-."

It was at that point that Father Anghelscu realized what he was looking at. The little broom cupboard door, creaking open. A few toys, a cot on the floor told a horrific story and the deadbolt and grille the rest. In a house like this, did they truly do that? How much did he miss, in his quiet, self-imposed watch? Did Dumbledore know? The Ministry?

He had been five years remiss in his duty and his mistakes slammed into him like a minotaur's punch.

He made his choice.

"Mara. I need a neighborhood blackout."

"Done and done." In eight seconds, everything went dark and Father Anghelscu went to work.

* * *

Tonks immediately spoke.

 _"Lumos."_

Dawlish followed a beat after, both aurors peering into the dark around them, wary before he relaxed.

"Nothing. Just a blackout, surprised it don't happen more often with the muggles and their elektracy." Tonks ignored him, listening with half an ear. Something was wrong. A feeling in her gut making her wary, as she breathed out. To all intents and purposes, there was nothing. No cops, no neighbors- Their charms had proven useful, there was literally no reason to feel this way.

And then she realized that Dawlish had stopped talking and when she turned around, he was gone.

"Dawlish! Where are you- _Homenum Revelio!"_

The charm pulsed out, revealing the presence of other humans. If Dawlish was around, she'd know and then she could- She blinked.

According to the charm, he was directly above her. She turned her wand up and nearly screamed as Dawlish's body nearly dropped down on her. He was a heavy man and she was not looking forward to be crushed beneath. Cursing under her breath, she glanced at him once to make sure he was alright before looking back up. That was her mistake.

She shouldn't have looked away and by that point, the nigh-invisible figure behind her landed in silence as he brought his hand around to the back of her head with a solid whack.

And for Tonks, the world went darker.

* * *

Father Anghelscu sighed with relief. Quick, fast- Avoid the wand, close combat tended to remove most wizards and he strode over them, heading out the door. This took more time than he wanted and he paused, glancing at the cupboard before moving down to pick through the pillow. Come on, come on...Aha.

Taking samples of hair, he left via the backdoor and hopped the fence.

Just in time to miss the sight of a burst of flame on the street and a far, spryer acting wizard than his age suggested dashing inside. Mara blinked and let out a low whistle.

This might be bad.

On the road, driving to Richmond, Father Anghelscu listened carefully to the rest of Mara's report and work.

"-Our street informats say nothing about a bounty. That said, a lot of em remember the times of you-know-who and feel grateful. They're crooks, not killers. Mostly. So there's a safe bet they're telling us the truth. Other idea is that our mystery man hired mundane for a reason, just to avoid these sort of awkward questions."

"No doubt. I have his hair. Perhaps we can use that to track him down."

Unless their foe thought of that, but at this point he didn't want to voice it aloud. Making a turn on the street he was driving in, Father Anghelscu considered again before asking.

"Mara, bring up the list of mercenaries operating in Britain. The one we obtained from Sin. Cross-reference the sort who'd do a job like this and who would be able to bypass the wards."

"Bossman?" Mara was confused and Father Anghelscu spoke, a streetlight he passed under briefly illuminating his expression of pondering before they sped by, leaving a faint, eerie glow of red beneath the brim of his hat.

"I was thinking perhaps we're working this the wrong way. They managed to get past the wards physically, true. But the more I thought of it, the less likely it seemed for one of the darker families to have done it. Dealing with mundanes is such a shift in their mindset that unless any of them changed during the past five years alone, it seems more and more impossible. So let's see what kind of people remain-."

"-That fit the criteria between old and new world! Got it."

She went to work. He parked on the side and glanced over towards his impromptu work consisting of an empty folder, a glue stick, salt he bought from a gas station and the various knick-knacks he kept in his car for just this purpose. Along with the hair of the boy, it created a handy if crude ritualistic spell that in theory will lead him to Harry Potter. The hairs wrapped around an iron needle(to pierce illusions and confundement), it spun and vibrated the closer he got to his target.

It was positively shuddering visibly now as he looked up at the warehouse. Abandoned by the Thames, a peeling paint of a pig with a cane showcased its old butcher roots and even through the window, he could feel the faint misma of spilled blood and rot. Abandoned, left to ruin it was a cancerous sore on his senses and he could well understand how it could work as a hiding place for conventional, modern spells. The ambient energy was its own cloak and if he didn't think to grab the boys hair...Well, whether he was dead or alive was another story and he thought a bit more before he realized Mara was talking aloud as she went through the list.

"-Fowls, naw retired at this point. Marcone is American and his boys are few and far- Boss? Think I got something. Giovanni family has been stirring up lately around here."

Vampires. Father Anghelscu sighed and checked his weapons, ensuring they were ready. His bayonets were a tricky one. A blacksmiths nightmare, to give them a high silver content without destroying its toughness but the end result had helped him many times over. He got out of the car, listening to the rest as he popped open the trunk of his car.

Weapons, of every sort met his eye and his hand waving briefly over in choice, he selected the .50 Smith and Wesson and the Remington shotgun, loading it up with special rounds as he kept listening.

"They've contented themselves with money laundering in recent years, building goodwill and acting as a buffer for certain...Families of standing. All confidential of course."

The gun loaded with a satisfying click and he peered through the sight in perusal.

"Of course. You got my signal? Check the address, let Sin know where I am."

"Not like you to be so sharing."

He smiled now, closing his trunk as he stepped away.

"You know me Mara."

He glanced at the warehouse and faded into shadow, his voice muffled as though speaking from a great distance.

"I always like to hedge my bets."

* * *

 **Authors Note**

 **And chapter 2 done. Read and review, hope you enjoyed.**


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